My Immortal The Umpteenth Rewrite
by Ms. Jones
Summary: Inspired by Tara's in famous story, this is my take on it. Enjoy! And just like the original, goodness knows when I'll update. Enjoy. Prepz welcome!


Adapted from the world famous "My Immortal" by XXXbloodyrists666XXX, so credit must go to her, first and foremost.

Additional credit, of course, must go to J K Rowling for her original characters and scenarios. I luffs you Joanne 3

My name is Ebony Dark'nuss Raven Way. I'm seventeen and I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where I've just started my seventh year. I have long ebony black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like the deepest Antarctic, and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee from the Muggle band Evanescence. Oh, if you were wondering about my surname being attributed to the My Chemical Romance Muggle lead vocalist Gerard Way, I'm not married to him but I wish I was; he's a major hottie!

I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and whenever I go home back to the States I buy all my clothes (apart from my uniform, which comes from Madam Malkins, and fortunately for me is also black) from there. Today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. As long as we're not in formal lessons we're allowed to wear whatever we damn please.

This afternoon, after a particularly boring Charms lesson of the first term I was walking outside Hogwarts, alone as usual. I don't have many friends here because… well… being a Goth, I'm a bit of a social outcast. Being in a public school in Britain, I don't have many friends back home either, because as I go away to school, it's assumed I'm a snob and a posh kid, but I'm not. I try to explain that it is a kind of scholarship, but a lot of my friends have distanced themselves from me, which saddens me so I just immerse myself in the alternative Muggle culture that is Goth… well at least I try to. Many of the other people here really are from privileged backgrounds, such as that stupid little prep Justin Finch-Fletchly whom I once overheard saying he had been marked down for Eton, a privileged private school that all the country's spoiled Muggle princes went to. Once last year he brushed passed me in the dungeon corridor (I had just finished a rather interesting double Potions class). Staring at my pale foundationed face and heavy kohl, he laughed and said 'I'm not surprised to see _you _down here, you nasty little vampire bitch. Why don't you Transfigure yourself into a bat and fly off back to America and leave us alone?' 

That afternoon, I got so upset over his nasty, hate-filled comment, I am ashamed to admit, I started cutting again. I had not done so since my mother, a skilled witch, was killed in a car crash three years ago. I smashed a mirror in the bathroom, grabbed a shard of glass, and started scratching violently at my left arm. It hurt, but I would do anything, anything at all, to attempt to take away that emotional pain. Thankfully, in the throes of misery, when I was contemplating slicing my wrists to try and end my suffering permanently, when my best friend Willow Avery, a follower of the Occult with what some might say an unhealthy interest in the Dark Arts, (but people have said that about my favourite teacher, Severus Snape, who, incidentally, has just been promoted to DADA teacher) who I met on my very first day on the Hogwarts Express, came in and talked me out of it. She took me to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey healed my shameful cuts in a flash. The scars are mercifully gone (unlike the arms of Kayla Ison, my best Muggle friend… seriously if I could, I would bring he over and get Pomfrey to rid her arms of slash marks of bad memories past, I would), but the mental scars, I will have to live with for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I wish I _was_ a vampire, Fletchly would be the first little fucker I drain the lifeblood from!

Anyway, I was strolling around the edge of the Great Lake, watching the giant octopus bob around under the bluey-grey waters. It was sleeting so there was no sun, which pretty much describes my life. A group of Hufflepuff fourth years, on their way to a Herbology practical lesson, stared at me. Rolling my eyes at their ignorance, I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was a pale, skinny boy with slicked back blond hair and stormcloud grey eyes. Draco Malfoy! We have known each other for seven years, and this was the first time he had even thought to speak to me. His usually white, drawn cheeks were a little flush, and his usual smirk lacked its usual cocky cheekiness I had become used to.

"What's up Draco?" I asked, a little surprised he should be talking to me.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

Before I could continue my conversation (which would undoubtedly have been something lame, like the weather) I was rescued this embarrassing situation by Willow, shouting me over. "Hey, Eb!" she called. "There's a vicious game of Wizard chess going on between Harper and Goyle! Three guesses who's winning?"

I glanced at Draco one last time. "Got to go," I stammered, turned on my heel and ran as fast as heavy, knee-length combat boots would allow.

Back in the common room, we caught a rather violent end to the wizard chess match, which most of the Slytherin seventh years had gathered to watch. Outside of Quidditch season, wizard chess is quite popular at Hogwarts, especially amongst us Slytherins. Beats stinky Gobstones, though I heard that Eileen Prince, a Slytherin herself, was Captain of the Gobstones team some forty-odd years ago.

'Bloody' Mary Smith, the only other Goth girl I know of at Hogwarts was waiting by the portrait of Thrall the Inhospitable, the entrance to the Slythein dormitories. She was hopping around in anticipation.

"Hurry!" she called excitedly. "Nick checkmated Gregory undoubtedly, but… you know what Greg's like…" She trailed off. "It might be faster to see for yourself… Midnight," she articulated, and the portrait of Thrall swung open to reveal the common room, full of cheering teenagers, and two figures grappling on the floor.

"See?" hollered Nicholas Harper, a Beater for the Slytherin Quidditch team, who had Gregory Goyle pinned to the floor by his throat. "Wizard chess is a battle of _wits! _Not something you'd know an awful lot about!"

Gregory gurgled a muffled reply "Gggrhggrghhh…" he slurred.

Suddenly a familiar voice behind me purred, "Just what is going on here?" I jerked my head to see Draco Malfoy, who pulled his wand from his robes, pointing it right at Nick's head.

"Let him go," he hissed, poking Nick in the temple with his wand. "Let him go, or else I'll do something I might regret."

Nick obeyed immediately. "Fine," he hissed, relenting his grip on Gregory, and sweeping back his floppy ginger hair. He gave Gregory a finally surreptitious kick in the knee, so that Draco wouldn't notice.

Draco glanced at me in such a way, I blushed under my heavily made-up face. I affected a yawn and turned to Willow and Mary. "Well, it's been a long day traveling and the like. I think I'll go to bed." I walked, faster than usual, up the spiral staircase to the dormitories, where I changed into my pyjamas (an oversized My Chemical Romance t-shirt), threw back my hot pink velvet sheets and slipped into bed.

The next day I woke up to find it was still sleeting, which was fine with me. I abhor the sunshine, as it stings my eyes, and besides, none of my classes were out of doors. I hauled myself reluctantly out of bed, slipped into my uniform, and met Willow in the Great Hall for breakfast, at the Slytherin table.

As soon as she caught my bloodshot eyes, still rimmed with sleep, she smirked. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "I saw you talking to Draco Malfoy yesterday!"

I shrugged. "Yeah? So?" I questioned haughtily, once again blushing.

"Do you like him?" she asked as our breakfast suddenly appeared in front of us – waffles and syrup, along with bacon and sausages, with goblets of pumpkin juice. Since pumpkin juice makes me gag, I was provided with a flask of coffee.

"No I don't!" I hissed, viciously stabbing some sausages and shaking them off my fork onto my plate. The topmost one flew right off the fork and landed in the eye of a passing Gryffindor – Neville Longbottom. I cracked a smile, in spite of myself.

"Yeah right!" she chuckled. Just then, Draco walked up to me, plate loaded up with waffles, and took the empty seat on the other side of me. Willow looked at me as if to say _I knew it!_ and turned away to talk to Mary.

"Hi," he said.

"Well, hi," I replied, batting my eyelashes.

"Guess what," he said, shoving half a sticky waffle into his mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, The Weird Sisters are playing Hogsmeade this weekend," he told me.

"Oh. By. Merlin's. Beard!" I gasped. I _love _The Weird Sisters. They are my favorite band, besides My Chemical Romance. I _never _get to hear them, since we don't get the Wizarding Network over in America, despite all of our superior networking capabilities, and vast populations over eight time zones.

"Well…" he said, his usual confident, clear, slightly cocky voice wavering with nerves. "Would you like to come with me?" he asked.

I clapped my hand to my mouth, and swallowed a chunk of sausage whole. Since I knew the coffee was too hot to wash down such a huge lump of food, I grabbed Willow's goblet and gulped down her vile pumpkin juice. "Hey!" she objected, and immediately summoned a full jug. I thought for a split second she was going to pour it over me as revenge for my thievery, but she merely refilled her goblet, and nodded in Draco's direction.

"So… would you?" he asked, a little hesitently.

I considered him for a moment. I mean, he was in the year below me, and on the train this year, he was getting very cosy with Pansy Parkinson. I wasn't sure if I could really trust him.

"What about Pansy Parkinson?" I asked, as confidently as I could.

Draco feigned confusion. "Who?" he asked, sarcastically.

I sighed. "Oh… you know. Stocky girl. Bad hair. Mom probably still shrinks her hair with a Reduction Charm…"

Draco shot me a distasteful look as if to say, _She's not that bad. _But his lips were different.

"Oh, her," he sighed, as if remembering a long forgotten secret. "Nah. She's cool. Just a mate, you know…"

But from the other end of the table, I noticed the stocky girl with bad hair give me a look that could melt steel. Then again, she always looked at me with disdain, and regarded me as a freak, so I didn't take much notice. Thus, I agreed to Draco's offer.

He looked pleased, and a little colour came back to his cheeks, which seemed to be getting paler by the day. _Is he turning into a vampire,_ I wondered superstitiously, having read _Dracula _way too many times than a normal being should.

"Great!" he said, the cockiness back in his voice as he picked up his empty plate and made to stand up. "Meet me at the front gate at seven tomorrow night… and dress to impress."

"I always do," I called back as he walked back to his eternal companions, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory, who was still sporting a black eye from yesterday's chess incident, reluctant to tell Madam Pomfrey how it had happened.


End file.
